#I've told myself health matters more than consistency

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[lostonmari]

SUCCESS #2 - November

Success #2 -- Everything I manifested in November

November is when I started this blog, and also ACTUALLY started applying all of the things I learned started taking affirming and thinking in my favor seriously instead of just sporadically manifesting random things here and there because I was too lazy to put in the work. I never had issues w wavering, but I was just inconsistent as fuck (Hell, I'm still inconsistent with posting on my own damn blog, yall can't possibly think I'm consistent with affirming!) So here's everything I manifested…

Manifested back my old bestfriend/ex-gf after 4 years no contact She came back, apologized for mistreating me and told me basically everything I affirmed for LMAO. and that's one of the things that gave me faith in the law because ik this girl would rather die than ever apologize to someone. Now that she's back I'm manifesting away her friends and leaving her broke down and in shambles because I'm evil and believe in revenge. yall dont know the type of bullsh*t this woman put me through. Idc if everyone is you pushed out, some people don't deserve forgiveness 🤓

My mom is walking again I successfully revised her shattered ankle without the weeks of recovery time the doctors "thought" she needed. She's literally walking around just fine now and doesn't need to wear her cast or whatever that big bulky thing was.

Manifested my brother out of jail on a time crunch Now I'm not sharing my family's whole drama online but… yea. he's out.

No more social anxiety, cured one of my mental health issues I don't wanna trauma dump or go into too much detail about my life but, yes. for anyone also working on mental health, it can be done and you won't regret trying. Life actually feels like it has meaning now and for once in all my years of life, I can actually say that I'm happy. 💗

Stopped nail biting COMPLETELY! I used to struggle with nail biting for YEARSSS whether it was out of stress, anxiety, whatever the fuck. but now it's completely gone. my nails are no longer STUBS, like theyre actually long and healthy. I didn't even affirm for this so I kinda think it came with improving my mental health since I didn't really have the issues that *triggered* nail biting anymore yk?. I'm actually the happiest about this result like yall don't understand how long I've wanted the natural french tips look 💀

[TW: Discussion of binging, discussion of food]

6. WL + Maintained weight loss! I literally changed my entire way of viewing food, and subsequently fixed my lose->gain->lose-> gain again cycle. Ever since learning LOAss If I binged I would be like: I just have a fast metabolism so that's why I'm so hungry my body is burning everything I eat so fast! and I would also tell myself calories don't matter because food is only energy. Basically, reminding myself of what Abdullah told Neville: "If you ate as I did, you would be poisoned because of your belief." (heavily paraphrased because my memory is terrible.. yes I'm working on it 😭) and it keeps me from feeling guilty abt eating. I ate SOOO MUCH food yesterday and I mean SO MUCH. I ate an entire box of cheese sticks, two large chicken sandwiches, 2 pb & j sandwiches total throughout the day, and half a tub of icecream for dessert… Yeah I was going crazy.. to the point I looked 5 months pregnant at the end of the night. Fast forward to today, my stomach is back to flat and back to normal as if it never happened. Food literally will not effect you if you believe it doesn't! This was my main focus too so I'm very proud of myself :)

Moral of the story is, never give up.

YOU decide what happens in your reality and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. There were times when I didn't want to affirm, so I didn't. If I felt lazy then I didn't consciously affirm or listen to subliminals, I just relaxed and went on about my day. I never made affirming feel like a chore. There were times when I had doubts too or thought it wouldn't work. I especially thought it wouldn't work for my mental health but I just affirmed anyway. When you're having resistance literally just know there's nothing bad that can possibly happen from believing in yourself and thinking in your favor. Just DO IT. Persist no matter what and you WILL get what you want!

I'll try to do better with posting my successes (but only ones that actually meant something big to me tbh. I don't see a point in sharing every little thing unless it was me overcoming some type of struggle) and answering messages but I refuse to download the tumblr app so yall just gotta see and hear from me whenever I feel like loading up this website. I'm just enjoying & living my life rn girl I used to dream about times like this and now I finally have them 😭

[schizosupport]

I don't really have a diagnosis for a lot of this stuff but I think my experience might be relevant so I'd like to share. Especially since I've never had words for my experiences around sense of self so I'm hoping this might resonate

It's like there is a me, clearly there has to be because I observe the world and interact with it and stuff but like. There is no internal consistency to the me that I am. Like I have different ways of being and moving through the world and they are all me and they are all a performance and all of it is performance and none of it is. Like I interact with the world and other people differently but also internally I feel completely different. But I'm always me. But there's not any sort of true, real me, just a collection of facades and modes of existing and attempts at being a person.

Also like time and memory are weird for me. Like my past didn't happen and also it's currently happening. I'm right here right now and also in my grandmother's garden how it was when I was little and also dissociating. And then someone will ask me what I'm experiencing and I won't know how to tell them that memory is a closed loop and I am trapped to forever repeat memory and states of self and ways of being.

And then on top of that theres the trauma of being a mentally ill person who's never truly allowed to know themselves. There is no fact of my existence, no matter how deeply I hold onto it or know it to be true, that is safe from a therapist or doctor or other authority figure coming in and telling me I'm wrong. Like for example having therapists deny a physical health diagnosis I've had my entire life, which meant that while I was around that therapist I was not allowed to acknowledge something I consider a basic fact about who I am. And with my history I usually don't remember I can just think what they're saying is wrong, I contort myself into being whatever it is they told me I should be so that I can hold onto as much of my freedom as I can

And so gender exploration for me has been fraught. Fundamentally I fall back on do I want this/not want this when it comes to making decisions. But I'm constantly worried if the me that comes after the me I am now is going to be okay with these things. And on top of that I'm scared to be open about myself in case it gets challenged, because the moment it gets challenged I have to rethink and attempt to reunderstand my entire life and every experience that I've ever had. Which is not an easy thing to do, to finally think I've come to an understanding of myself only to have to throw it all away and start over from scratch because someone decided I was wrong. Or even just the fact that how I feel about presentation and the gender people interpret me as change based on how I am at any given moment.

But also having taken some steps into transitioning, I am really happy about it. It makes me feel good and that's honestly what I care about at the end of the day. My loved ones are thankfully supportive, which also helps a ton. If nothing else it makes me feel like my body belongs to me, which is something that's very important to me

I relate to a lot of this. I'm also taking baby steps into transition myself, and it's hard to "stand by myself" when I can't even begin to answer what that even means. But it also feels good to do it, even though "myself" is this big unknown that I'm still trying and failing to discover.

I sometimes feel like I only ever know who I am in a social context, because the "me" then is a result of who I think the other person needs and wants me to be. For me this means that the notion of "they bring out the best in me" is very literal. I try to surround myself with people who shape me into a person that I like to be. And I tell myself that ultimately the question is "who do I want to be", not "who am I?". So I don't know if the quirky daughter that my dad knows is any less "real" than the messy queer dude that my fiance loves, but I know that I am more happy when I'm the messy queer dude. And ofc there's way more to any persona than just gender. But yeah.

And for me, getting to know people who make me into a version of myself that sparks joy, is my way of "finding myself". Maybe it's who I am, but it's easier for me to think of it as who I like to be.

Also yeah, time and memory is odd, and I try to be careful not to think too hard about it :p

Thank you for sharing your experiences 💜

[simply-trash5]

What's up? Sorry in advance since this is gonna be kinda long. If it isn't too much trouble, could I please get a Trigun Stampede matchup? multiple characters are okay, if you think it's fitting or necessary.

I'm 21, non-binary pansexual/romantic, and polyamorous (no preference for gender)

General personality stuff:

MBTI is INFP

Ennegram types 2, 4 and 8

Zodiac Taurus sun, pieces moon and rising

Not sure if appearance matters but- 5'3, chubby and kinda muscular, lots of scars on arms, chest, and legs. Fashion consists of graphic tees (with puns, memes, and trippy art) and jeans or shorts. I'll wear lots of different kinds of jewelry, and don't really have a set aesthetic.

Hobbies/likes- going to the gym, roller skating, playing video games, driving, listening to music (and singing along.. Badly), smoking weed, watching TV shows and movies, hanging out with friends, drawing, Writing, reading, going to museums/amusement parks, taking care of/watching animals

Positive traits: my friends have told me that I'm smart, funny/goofy, sarcastic, polite, thoughtful, strong, patient, trusting/trustworthy, empathetic and compassionate. My friends generally come to me for advice and I've been told I'm a good listener. I also like make myself useful (doing dishes, wiping down counters, laundry, etc) I'm passionate and very excitable and it makes me pretty talkative (when I want to be). Sociability depends on my mood. Sometimes I sit back and enjoy group dynamics, other times I participate more in conversation

Negative traits: tendency to be envious. I'm very self conscious/ insecure, and indecisive because of it. Bad habit of taking stuff personally and dwelling on issues that I should let go. can get annoyed/frustrated easily, especially if I'm overstimulated. also jumpy and gullible. Communication is very important to me in all my relationships, but when I get depressed, I tend to isolate.

Diagnoses: depression, anxiety, PTSD, and ADHD

When I first meet people, I'm overly formal and will crack a few jokes, but once I'm familiar with someone, I cuss a lot and enjoy playful teasing, but I always encourage to set boundaries if they need to.

I collect a lot of stuff. I have a Ton of comfort items- my posters, stuffed animals, collectible figures, etc. I'm a big over thinker. I can be pretty independent and self sufficient (sometimes) but I'm also very very insecure and doubt myself a lot. Big on current events and media analysis. I've got lots of vocal stims and am pretty fidgety.

I show my love through acts of service and prefer words of affirmation. I enjoy doing things for my loved ones and making sure they can relax, feel safe, and be happy

I know this is pretty long, so I apologize if it's overwhelming. Please don't feel pressured to answer. Take care! 💛

First off—we honestly sound eerily similar. Like down to the mental health diagnosis’s and I’m also a Taurus sun. ☺️ so if ya wanna be friends✨✨😌

ANYWAY ON TO THE EVENT:

After careful consideration I’m putting you with both Vash and Nico!

I see you having a smoke sesh with Nico then talking with Vash about what’s going on in the world.

Both of these guys have some really awful trauma but they would both love nothing more than for you to talk with them about what’s bothering you! Vash would embrace your stimming, because let’s face it—he’s ADHD too. Nico would do everything he could to put all of your insecurities at ease by always telling you how beautiful and special you are to him.

Please shower them with love and expect it in return.

[maxwellsuperbien]

Art school and mental health.

I think I decided to really become an artist in 2014. At the time, I was in high-school and the idea of trying to enter an art school came from seeing how little practice was in the art curriculum at a french university.

Not knowing anything better I submitted an embarrassing portfolio consisting of things I saw in the videos of people wanting to go in the

𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓪𝓷 𝓘𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓼

My portfolio neither had the quality to enter what I now know as an animation school and clearly wasn't focusing on concepts enough to go into the kind of school we have in France. I was motivated but my parents aren't artist, I didn't know any art student and my art professor pushed going to a university.

Instead I went into a preparation school that helped me understand what type of art school they are, what they wanted and how different from one another the teachings there can be. After that I tried 3 different schools and got 2 to accept me.

While I had nothing against the 3rd one at the time, knowing I fucked up during the entrance exam, learning how pretentious the professors were and how they treated not only my classmates but the students as well, pissed me of.

I wasn't mad they refused me because I already had the privilege of choice with the 2 schools I wanted. I was mad because despite not liking this particular classmate, they treated her condescendingly and mocked her in a very stressful situation.

She instead went to another school, less prestigious sure, but at least more adapted to what she did and wanted. I'm glad for her but that moment marked me and gave an idea of how little art school were concerned for the mental health of their students.

Nobody comes out, at least in France, of an art school intact, some people are traumatized, some left with severe burn out, some became the professor's black sheep (for good or bad reasons). I went there, excited to meet so many people, met the one person that was super manipulative, got social anxiety and never got any real friends.

Sure, I learned a lot of things about art, techniques, others and myself. However, I also learned that despite my best attempts at socializing, I felt unfulfilled, frustrated and developed a depression. I cried each birthday I had from my situation, had suicidal ideations, didn't quite understand what happened to me.

I felt like I never did enough for people and my professors made me feel like it. I got my diploma with the jury telling me I could have developed my ideas deeper and should step out of my comfort zone.

How do you step out of your comfort zone when it's the only thing making you survive and feel safer ?

You don't. You're mentally ill and you need something to cling unto while experiencing traumatic events.

I was isolated but each time I talked about it, people who told me they would make steps didn't or were too busy working on things of their own.

Trust me, I don't want to repel anyone from entering art school.

Be careful about who you meet and who's competitive mind is full of negative self-value. Inform yourself on where other students live and get near them, try to not be isolated or isolating yourself (if you can).

Your work might be amazing but if people only value you because of it, it's not right. You're a whole person, your feelings matter and friendships are VERY important to your art school experience.

I think what made me not quit, was mostly from the mindset I grew up with and the solidarity the class showed towards shitty things professors did to us. We legit scared the teachers because we would NOT shut up about how wrong and immature they could be.

I became aware of many things during these 3 years. Like my needs, gender identity, social issues... My experience was intense and honestly ? I don't recommend being me.

I don't speak for everyone there, I'm sure many got more positives than negatives but while I'm on friendly terms with my old classmates, I've never really been friends with them either.

ANYWAYS. Here's a picture of a scorpion-fly from this april :)

[jimblejamblewritings]

just getting thoughts out

TW: COCSA, CSA, physical abuse

18+, minors do not under any circumstance interact. You will be blocked on sight. I'm sure you're a great person but this post is still 18+ because of the subject matter so you have to keep it scrolling.

Note: I debated even writing this but then I realized that this is a personal blog and I don't have to hide things. Also I accidentally stumbled across a Lily Orchard/Courtney Peet video which has triggered the hell out of me (I had never heard of these people before but now I do and i wish I didn't) so now I need to do something to try and calm down.

That being said, this is just a diary entry of sorts and no one is obligated to read this or respond to this. That isn't why I wrote it. I just can't afford therapy and need to get my thoughts out. Also, I've never wanted to discuss my trauma with my face actually attached to it because it makes me uncomfortable despite living it but this blog is relatively anon. At some point in the future, I'll probably delete this because it feels too intimate and personal to just have up forever. So no reblogs please. I think that's all the warnings I have.

There is something really hard about realizing your brain convinced you that you were guilty of something you didn't actually do in order to prevent you from remembering what happened to you. It's kind of worse than believing you were guilty of something. That's how I feel anyway because now I have to process two painful things and one isn't even real which makes it more frustrating to have to process imaginary trauma.

I guess it's more than one thing but they relate in some way. I think. Anyway, when I was a senior in high school I lost my virginity (sorry mom). It wasn't bad or anything but a fun fact health class didn't teach is that it turns out having sex for the first can trigger repressed memories of your sexual assault. Wild time. It can also trigger a whole host of memories, including the fact that I fabricated a whole lie in my mind and plagued myself with guilt for years over something that didn't happen.

The lie I created: I was a perpetrator of COCSA around age 12 or 13 or something like that. The age kept changing but I placed myself in middle school, that much was consistent.

The truth? Where do I begin. The memories that unsurfaced? returned? weren't perfect pictures and I honestly thought that I was trying to cope with the "truth" by flipping the script. Except certain things were way more consistent (always the same actually) and I finally had the courage and idea to look up certain details of the memories that overlapped in both the lie and the truth.

I don't know if this was the start of me finding myself in these bad situations or if it was just a very unfortunate incident but I went with my grandparents to go visit their family in another state and when we were there our family in-laws were there as well. My cousins and I were playing in the house and bouncing a play around and one of the in-laws didn't like that so he slapped me across the face. This memory has never left me.

I remember exactly what the house looked like, what he was wearing, and how he told me to "come here" and I thought we were just going to get yelled at. Which looking back is weird because I was the second youngest kid there. I was nine and two of my cousins were around twelve and even they weren't the oldest kids there. But he called me over and full on slapped me across the face.

We should have left the house because my cousins, bless them, did go get the other adults but all they did was scold him and I think I was treated to ice cream or something sweet. We stayed at the house and I watched my cousins play the new Spider-man: World of Shadows video game. Despite vividly remembering a near drowning in the pool the next day, I don't remember the rest of that night or the rest of the trip at all. Just that slap and the video game.

But after that I became way to hypersexual for my age. I had literally just gotten the period talk in school and knew literally nothing about sex so becoming hypersexual without any concept of what that means is actually concerning looking back on it with an adult brain (or even teenage brain because I was concerned as a senior as well). To this day I still don't remember that trip aside from the slap and the video game so I honestly can't say it was more than a coincidence that this all happened right after without it being just speculation.

I'm not speculating on my friends or their families at all because this could have been an idea they came up with all on their own without knowing what all that means, kids do it all this all the time, but a couple of them had introduced me to playing house and playing doctor which, yeah, not great.

My mom did tell me not to play it but I was a kid and didn't understand what was so bad about it after we started playing so of course I didn't tell her. We kept playing it. I don't think it went as far as some people's horror stories of playing doctor and house but it still wasn't great. Unfortunately, I showed my other friends and family friends around my age playing house and that was the basis of me creating the idea in my mind of being a perpetrator. I'm not sure why twelve was the age I stuck to but I think that I just blocked out everything from about nine to twelve and when I started to remember then my brain had to do a 180 and just flip the script real quick. It still wasn't right to play house but I'm trying to grapple with the fact that I didn't know and why it happened in the first place.

I think maybe 12 stuck not just because the memories started coming back but also because I finally had sex ed class around 11/12. So at that point, I understood what was going on but that's just my thought. I really don't know why my brain picked those ages but little innocuous things point to the age being so much younger (let alone the situations that I fabricated just not happening) but I never wanted to look up the dates of the things I remembered. Subconsciously, I probably knew why because every single small detail I remember comes from the time period between September 2009 and April or May of 2010 which is a hell of a short time to have everything happen and I'm just still kind of shaken by it.

I'm also a bit freaked out about playing house because some of my family friends were like 13-15 and egging us on or laughing about it and that's just not the appropriate response. At 15, I went to my school guidance counselor to report that exact thing happening between some people I knew so I can't imagine that another 15 year old wouldn't have known not to participate with us let alone joke about it at that age.

I wish the playing house with friends was the worst part but if it was then I probably wouldn't have tormented myself for years but instead look at it like others do where they just think it's so embarrassing and they can't believe they played doctor but they were just kids so they cringe and move on.

The worst part was actually with some family friends' friends. My parents used to work out of town a lot so I would stay with a babysitter. But the baby sitter was my mom's friend who she knew since they were kids who agreed to watch me for free. Because of that, I met a lot of her friend's kids and we became really close. Somehow, I ended up babysitting sometimes which I don't think is legal in any state to let a 9 year old watch a toddler and some pets but nothing ever happened and I don't think she was ever gone for very long but just running quick errands. We survived. I never even touched the stove so it was kind of a success.

I loved it though. I got to watch Lost and play video games that I couldn't play at my own house. My mom wasn't exactly happy about the Lost show because of being so young but also she let me watch Supernatural at 5 so I think she gave up on stopping that. Especially after I begged to keep watching because the last season was about to premiere and I already watched the other five seasons. I ended up being over just all the time, even on weekends so I was very close with all my "Aunt's" friends and their kids.

We even made very embarrassing music videos to Single Ladies, Rude Boy, and Tell Me Something I Don't Know that I still remember and cringe at all the time. And we went to amusement parks. We were all kind of just one big family, calling each other's parents "Aunt" and "Uncle", always wanting to see each other, making plans for vacations we couldn't afford or even go on by ourselves. But this led to me being invited over to their house for some party. I can't remember if it was for a birthday or just a party but I went with my mom.

Honestly, the day started off bad. We went to the community pool and some college guys thought it would be funny to stalk us and chase us with their car throughout the entire neighborhood. After a while, I guess they got bored because they told us it was just a joke and to calm down and then just drove away.

We went back to the house and all the kids went upstairs. The older kids let me go with them because I didn't want to play Barbie and Bratz with the kids my age. I should have known they were up to no good when they said that we're all going to go hang out in the closet because it's better but I followed them. The conversations quickly turned sexual and I just couldn't keep up with their conversations. Probably because I was 9 and they were around 13 or 14 and older but it just felt like I couldn't follow because I wasn't cool enough to know. I honestly don't know if they even talked about anything else before the conversation became sexual.

The group was pretty big but I only remember the family friend and the guy that assaulted me clearly. Everyone else's faces are just detailess blobs. The segue into the assault wasn't subtle but I guess you don't have to be when dealing with children. The family friend talked about humping and then offered to show me. Then they closed the closet door completely and turned off the light in it.

I've never seen them again since that day. But I don't remember telling my mom what happened or telling anyone so I wonder if she just had a hunch or something happened where I told her or someone did? When we left the closet, she let me have two slices of pizza and then promptly put me in the car and took me home.

Right after that, I stopped playing house. The hypersexuality stopped. And for awhile I just had no memories of those few months. None at all, not even school memories. I feel like for most of age nine, I just blacked out for the longest.

Fast forward to being 15 and my friend was dating a 26 year old which is a whole different can of worms that I do not want to unpack. None of us thought it was bad that he slept with her and I didn't voice it at the time but something in the back of my mind was screaming but I didn't know why exactly. That was the start of the floodgates of my memory coming back. The story I made up kept popping up in my mind throughout the day but only the details like they were begging me to lookup when Lost came out or when I got the newest Band Hero game for Christmas or when I actually lived in a specific house but I wouldn't do it.

I've tried to write this before when I was 17 and the memories came back. But I did that in real life, testing the water with my friends first. I got told that my assault didn't seem that dark to them. That shut me up until now. I've just been so afraid to say what happened and how I would be perceived in all aspects negative or positive. But I think that's made me feel worse over the years.

I don't really have an end to this. I've calmed down severely after writing this from the whole Lily Orchard thing so I feel better I guess. I think I'll still need years to really unpack what has happened in a context that doesn't leave me feeling guilty all the time but just writing everything feels like a necessary step.

[firstdivisiongirl]

HiI! I'd like to request a matchup for my perfect match in Tokyo Revengers

I go by she/her and my MBTI type is ISFJ (might be incorrect)

I love to read, write fiction stories, and draw. I read a variety of genres, one of those being Fantasy, romance, mystery, horror, and adventure.

I hate getting touched by people but at the same time I crave it. I suffer from Germophobia, which is an extreme fear of germs/dirty stuff. I only allow people I trust and have spent a long time with to touch me otherwise I'd feel uncomfortable and annoyed. (Last time that happened I had a panic attack and cleaned my whole room.)

I am a very loyal and caring person towards my loved ones. I would go out of my way to do everything for them such as giving them a story I wrote or something I drew for them. However I am easily angered. I hate people who lack empathy for others, when people make assumptions about me, and when people are just straight up stupid.

I spent hours inside the world in my head. I like to imagine scenarios of my original characters and their very own world.

I'm very anxious. One thing would easily worry me and it could either get worse or better. It's pretty bad. I've cried for a whole week because of it. I need to constantly be reassured.

Speaking of crying, I tend to cry by myself and quietly in my room. I hate it when my family finds out about it and I always act like I was fine when they come to my room.

I'm scared of being abandoned by my loved ones. I always worry that one day my best friend will leave me and I wish I could have more friends.

I keep my problems to myself. Not once have I ever told a single person in my life about what I'm going through because I don't want to burden them and I just don't know how to open up in general.

I'm pretty harsh on myself. I would always sulk whenever I couldn't bring myself to study or do something productive. I feel disappointed in myself and a failure to my parents.

I'm hesitant to eat out of fear of worsening my health. Whenever I eat a large portion of food, I would always regret it and avoid eating so much or eating nothing at all.

Based on fashion style, I don't know. I just wear whatever is available but I so desperately wish I could wear a more Gothic style or Coquette. I love pretty pink colors but also dark colors. I wear modest clothes. Anything tight or revealing makes me uncomfortable.

When it comes to music, I LOVE The Neighborhood, Lana Del Rey, Melanie Martinez, Isabel Larosa, and Lady Gaga.

I also HATE summer. I hate the heat, sweating makes me more annoyed than usual.

I'm a morning person but I cannot sleep consistently. My sleep schedule always gets messed up after 3 days.

I would love to go out with someone I know to explore abandoned/haunted buildings. I've never done that but I would not turn down the opportunity when given.

I love the rain, especially when it's quiet and empty whenever I'm at. I just love a gloomy/creepy atmosphere.

I think that's all there is to me. I would put more but it goes against my privacy. 😭

I would prefer a male character, thanks! ❤

Hey hey hey. Let’s get you a match. I hope you like it.

You Got…

Ryusei Satou!!!

Loves a good haunted place! Will take you to haunted places for dates.

Feel like you two have similar taste in music

He would support you and tell you that you are perfect no matter how bad you feel.

He is extremely loyal. You would never have to worry about him ever leaving you

Would respect your disliking of germs. He wouldn’t touch you if you didn’t want him too

I think he would enjoy you reading to him white he naps. It would make him happy to hear your voice as he dreams

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi, I'd like to ask for a match-up if you don't mind. This might be fairly lengthy or idk sorry about that. I use she/her and I think I'm pan although I would much rather not use labels for something as fluid as sexuality. My love languages are quality time and acts if service.

I've been told that I seem unapproachable to those who dont know me, which is understandable since I'm reserved around others most of the time. However, that's not the case at all with my close friends. I'm far more relaxed and expressive around them.

I'd say I have very low self esteem and find nothing to like about myself so I rely heavily on external validation, but only from people who mean somethingto me. I fear being perceived in a way i don't want by them so that sometimes leads to me being insincere with them at the start of relationships.

This will be a cliche but I've had my gifted kid burnout lol. It lead me to have a horrific work ethic like even right now I'm procrastinating on revising for an exam lmao. As for my grades they vary according to how much the subject interests me. Like I score really well on subjects like Math, English and psychology but in subjects like chemistry and physics, they're insanely unpredictable depending on if I liked that topic or not (anywhere from 40-100[which is sad tbh wish I was more consistent💀 also idk the us grade equivalent]) so I'd say interest plays a really important role in my actions.

That being said I gain and lose interest in stuff pretty quickly so it is really hard to talk about hobbies or likes and dislikes lmao. But a general trend that I've noticed is I unironically like pretentious shit lol. Psychology, law, philosophy and literature interest me very much. Other than that I've recently been getting into astrology bc of a friend and it's kinda fun?? Lol. Oh and for what it's worth I'm a Capricorn sun and moon and Virgo rising.

I also really like writing and have a collection of poems, some of which are embarrassingly edgy but in my defence I wrote them while having an emo phase back in middle school. But I still enjoy writing poetry and other short pieces. I also like singing and I think I'm slightly above mid at it idk. Other than that I like spending time with people who don't drain me on good days.

I tend to mess up a lot in relationships bc idk I somehow end up convincing myself I'm not worthy of them so I self sabotage a lot. Idk if this is relevant but I struggle a lot with mental health but I sought help this year so slay. I can also get pretty obsessive over them due to my pretty bad mental health. And uhhh like idk but if those feelings are not returned it just crashes and burns lmao like I end up hating them, which is honestly awful on my part, but I have to hate them too get over them. But eventually that hatred fizzles out into indifference but idk.

But uh sad stuff aside, I love passionately lmao. Like I spoil the fuck out of my friends and people I love. Handmade gifts, surprise trips, playlists or idk, just lying on the bed vibing in silence I just like hanging around with them. I make all of their problems mine and don't stop until I make them go away completely, or if I can't, I feel guilty about it. I'd say I like helping people. I want to be a therapist because I want to help people feel better or at least let them have some semblance of peace. Seeing that my efforts have made someone feel better makes me inexplicably happy.

And after all that would looks matter lol idk. But like it's safe to say that I'm conventionally ugly lmao. But I don't really mind it. I've made peace with it.

Ok that was genuinely long so sorry about that ahaha. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and have a great day!

I match you with...

Jumin.

You're the kind of person that is hyper-vigilant about everything that you do. No matter how you came to be this way, it's something that you're aware of and you have a hard time turning off. You are aware that actions have consequences and decisions can do things to other people. One of the things about being an empathetic person is you are constantly checking yourself. It means that you're a good person who always tries their best, but it also means that you wind up limiting yourself in other ways because while you try to emotionally regulate others, you forget to emotionally regulate yourself.

In that case, you need somebody in your life who knows how to remind you that you come first. It's important to help other people but don't take off all of your clothes in a blizzard to protect somebody else and leave yourself with nothing. So having somebody in your life that knows how to take care of other people is important. It makes you a powerful duo in your own right when you're having a good day, but it also keeps the two of you in check when you need a reminder that you need to be taken care of. Jumin is your man for that reason. He can be there for you and you can be there for him.

You’re passionate, too. You like to create with your hands and that leads to you sitting around with Jumin as you work, and he chuckles in approval, working on his projects at the same time. He loves to watch you make something out of the tools you have! It inspires him to focus harder on the hobbies he has. It’s meant to be methodical... but you remind him that it’s a creative endeavor, too. A labor of love molded by your hands. You inspire your lover every day just by being the person that you are. Love is strong and true, and you never have to be afraid of looking over at him and not seeing the same love-filled eyes. It’s always there in his heart.

[bassproblues]

Goodbyes Are Hard

The one person who doted on me and never tried to make me any harder than need be was Andy. My good friend, Andy, who oh so very casually dropped that she's moving to a whole new country via text the other day.

When I was a kid, not to overshare, I was in a rough situation and things were not so great. Andy and her wife took me in. I would trek over to Andy's house and help her wife make dinner. I'd come over after school to do homework and play some ball with Andy well into the night. I'd spend dozens of nights on their couch whenever I needed to just close my eyes and not have to think.

Andy didn't raise me -- I was a little past that age and a bit feral when we came into each others lives. But she certainly raised the best parts of me.

She taught me the velvety goodness of a fresh fade on a crew cut. And always made sure I didn't go to school looking like a scruffy Muppet.

Gave me my first sex talk, cause who else was gonna do it.

I'll miss seeing her dote on her wife, lavishing affection or doing little things to make her feel safe and comfortable. Andy and her wife were the first realization I had that maybe I could have a wife too one day, that it was a very real and possible future for me.

Andy told me all her fun stories about the local dyke bar that shuttered way before my time. How all the straight girls working the strip club next door would come over after work and tease the butches relentlessly, and how they'd walk the dancers to their cars at closing.

She taught me not to be ashamed of my stone and all my other butch quirks. And that if I found a girl I wanted to be touched by, that there's nothing wrong with a butch who rolls over in bed with a girl they trust.

Andy coached me through my many, many, mistakes when chasing straight girls, and tried to caution against her own faults and trappings that she saw in me.

Andy taught me so much. It's hard to write down.

Andy wasn't by any stretch of the imagination consistent, and I have no doubt she would agree as much. Her own family problems, financial problems, and her wife's poor health made consistency hard. But goddamn she always tried. And I always knew she loved me more than an extra mouth to feed ever inconvenienced her.

Her work, ultimately, is why she wants to move. She's works 12 hour days on a construction site. She's hard as diamonds, and always deflects whenever I bring it up, but it's hard to ignore. When I first met her we could still play some sports and hike and hunt and camp. Now the sum of her life has really worn down her neck, spine, and legs. Matter of fact, when I told Andy (far after the fact, mind you) I worked construction to put myself through college she had to restrain herself from grabbing me by the scruff and shaking me around. Andy knows it's bad, her wife knows it bad, I know it's bad. Ever since I was a kid, I've seen her come home from work late at night, not even shower or eat, pass out in the living room, and then get up in a few hours to do it all over again.

The new job is overseas, and it's a nice little desk job. Lots of sitting down inside with air conditioning. A better boss that wouldn't ride her ass as much. It's in her wife's home country, maybe her health will improve. It should be good. I just can't bring myself to be happy, and I know it's selfish of me.

I'm not sad right now. I'm sure one day I'll wake up and want to down whisky and wings with her after work, and maybe on that day I'll be sad. But now I just have feelings, and that's a bit much for me.

[suggahsweet]

Building a Second Brain

I am currently reading Building a Second Brain by Tiago Forte. While I have no idea if I will actually follow through on the main thesis of the book, which is to consolidate all of your disparate ideas floating out their in the digital world into one space and place, I am finding that his ideas are inspiring me and leading to some good conversations. For example, he suggests considering the questions that have followed you consistently throughout your life, your "twelve favorite problems" à la Richard Feynman. Here are the 12 questions that rise top of mind for me, à ce jour:

How can I live out my faith in a way that glorifies God? This question has followed me throughout my life through times of deep, naive, unquestioning belief, and times of turbulence and true doubt, but I'm glad it's still one of my main questions.

How can I be authentically me? To be honest, I don't often struggle with "being myself" per se...I am very me and probably too much me sometimes. BUT, I do feel like paradoxically as I've gotten older, it's almost like I know myself less. Reading back through this blog has certainly given me that impression. For a decade I wrote here pretty consistently, and for a decade it seems like I knew exactly who I was, and now, post-pandemic, as a mother but not-just-a-mother, and a mother of one at that when I always thought I'd be a mother of two, it's definitely more of a mystery than it was to my (over-confident) younger self.

How can I be the best mother? Funnily enough, I never ask myself how I can be the best wife (sorry, jnils...) but I do feel like EJ is "a lot of kid," as we like to say, and I never feel like I have it figured out. Like last night when he told April to "be better" when she was reading him a bedtime story. La honte! And there are so many areas to consider - sleep, picky eating, toilet training, school, screen time, behaviours - it never ends! So this is a relatively new question but it takes up a lot of my time.

How can I have fun? This is so enneagram 7 of me, but I feel like a lot of the time I'm thinking about how I can make the biggest adventure out of something, make life the most worth living.

How can I read a lot of (good) books? From getting Pizza Hut personal pans in grade school, to the Silver Birch reading events, to book club and Goodreads as an adult, this question has followed me throughout my life.

How can I balance my need for alone time to recharge with my to do list with spending time with the people that matter most to me?

How can I use my health stats (e.g. sleep, steps, heart rate, etc.) to optimize my wellbeing? This includes hormones, too! Which are too often ignored in the medical universe, which is very annoying since women make up half the population. But I digress.

How do I disconnect from my phone and be present in the moment? This question is always on my mind and I feel like the solution eludes me. It also relates to:

How can I slow down and single task and still get everything done?

How can I meal plan and figure out dinner each day and stop ordering so much takeout? (!)

How can I bring the most light and joy to other people?

How can I get myself organized? My eternal quest, much to my dismay and others'.

I'm sure there are more, but those are my 12 for now!

[izzincognito]

I feel like I'm consistently feeling emotionally constipated. Every emotion I ever bring up feels like a burden, the interactions have been getting progressively heavier and draining. Maybe it's because I don't know how to schedule accordingly or have a consistent plan. Although plans are nice to have I feel like its a trade off, like it feels like a loss of spontaneity and excitement. I like going with the flow. I sometimes like that I have no idea what the day is going to be like because it gives me this idea of freedom. Lately plans make me feel anxious. Like I have to emotionally prepare myself for them which I don't always do. But it has been something coming up a lot for me. The pressure to be somewhere and say things and do things. This massive amount of expectation to be happy when there just feels like so much anxiety around me..

I feel like the only time I feel like myself now is when I'm by myself. There's no factors to think about, no limits to what I can accomplish, no rules to where I can and can't go. But there are the downsides of course. The spirals, doubts, fears, insecurities.

I feel like I'm disconnected from you both more so than ever. Of course, I've taken my space. This allowed you both to get closer than before. Maybe it was unintentionally setting my self up for failure and to feel so disconnected. But I feel like my absence feels like a good thing for both of you. When we do hang out together I feel like I'm just third wheeling or being a cockblock like I've been told many times. After a while, it got to me. I felt hurt. I felt invisible. Even when I talk about my day or something I feel like I'm being talked over and the subject changes, now I feel shut down. I don't feel like I belong. It's something I've always generally struggled with in life and trying to work through. Even though I can do so much on my own, I want to feel wanted. Even if I shut down, I want to know you still care.

I feel like physical touch is a major part of my love language. Words of affirmation, quality time. I feel like I got frustrated that my needs weren't being met. I acted out and I'm truly sorry that you both saw me like that. Adding whiskey to the mix with my frustration just added a layer of unnecessary stress and crossing boundaries. Ultimately making a mess out of what was supposed to be a happy memory.

So I isolated myself. Because I felt like I was the problem. I know Miguel says that "we love you and miss you" but it feels empty. Especially when Maddie isnt the one to say it and he's just speaking on your behalf.

I want to know how to move forward. But there are so many doubts in my mind right now. I felt shitty that I went overboard and then I saw you guys went out to get drunk together. Or how you guys made really good soup. I felt left out. I know logically I was asking for space. But I still would like the invite. I want to know that I'm still considered even if you don't know what's going on with me. Because I would do the same for you. I guess that's the way you can support me. Let me know that you still care or want me around.

Because I feel like lately it's just been radio silence between Maddie and I. The energy is just so confusing and I don't know how to have deeper conversations with you. It doesn't feel like we're together. After the trip I just felt like I was the problem but I had no idea how to repair or reconnect or make things right. I'm consistently told that I don't understand anything about you both. And it's frustrating because even if I don't know what it's like to be OCD or have the same health issues, I feel like my attempts to empathize gets tossed aside. I feel like I don't matter at all when I tried.

I've just been trying to understand where I stand in this relationship because I don't feel like a main partner. I don't know if we see each other on an equal plain field in terms of priority. So far, I feel like I've taken a back seat because you both consistently make plans without me. I just find out about it at the last moment so I just go back to doing my own thing.

Cuz all I do is work and stay home. My update is that I'm doing the same thing every day. Wake up, brush my teeth, drink my energy, go talk to 100+ per day, work out, go home. I have classes and I have more privates because I don't have to think about if I have a date or an obligation. Both of you already have each other and have connected so well. I wish I knew how I could do that. I used to feel close to both of you but I guess with every comment about how I don't get it and with every interrupted conversation, I feel less and less. And I don't want to deal with that.

I don't want to fall into silence. I don't want to feel frustrated. I don't want to walk on eggshells. I don't want to feel like I can't talk to you.

The more I'm away, the less complicated thought that keeps coming up is to just break up. I know that's my fight or flight kicking in at over drive. But what I really want to know is how we can move forward. Because so far my hopes are underground. There's nothing I'm actually contributing to this relationship. And I feel like I'm questioning my worth continuously. I feel like I'm constantly wrong or not getting it. It's a void. And I'm sad.

The end.

[amusingor2]

I've been on a happy little pill for about 3 years now.

Long story short, I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel each day. I found myself in my early 20s, stuck in a relationship where I wasn't myself, in a job that drained my soul, in a cycle of regret and catastrophising until I fell into panic attacks. I started smoking weed heavily, to sleep mainly (being young I was told it would mellow me out, in the end I attribute my heightened anxiety mainly to the smoking!) and also then, to stop my thoughts from racing.

I used to be a nurse, and while smoking weed isn't talked about its probably more common in the medical field than you think. I don't blame anyone who works in health care to want to escape their reality. My thoughts would catastrophise to the point where I thought I'd injected a girls contraception wrong, made an error, lied about it and that she would get pregnant, sue me and I'd lose my registration to work. There was no reality to this other than I had used the wrong syringe, leading to a drop of medication leaking. Hindsight tells me this would never be enough to make the drug in effective, but at the time, I obsessed over this thought, crying and vomitting for days. It lead me to quit the job.

When I started on escitalopram, I thought the process would be harder or more judgemental than it was. Turns out, nearly everyone is on an antidepressant.

It worked seemlessly for 3 years. No panic attacks. No consistent chatter in my head. No living consistently in the future or past worrying.

Until a few weeks ago. Whilst I am nowhere near the same level, my anxiety has been manifesting in heightened dreams. These mainly revolve around the new school year starting (I became a teacher soon after leaving nursing) and I can feel the dread or worry start in.

I know logically this isn't a magic pill and worry/anxiety of some level is normal, especially when you are preparing for something that matters to you. But I keep slipping back into the fear of a panic attack, it's like the muscle memory of my heart racing is going to snap back into place at any moment.

I guess this is what mental illness and mental health is. A constant non-constant (man, isn't life ironic) where we find ourselves reliving our battles and hoping they don't re manifest.

I really hope this one doesn't re manifest.

[llbydiary]

1.3.2024

Haven't written in a few days. I went home from the 29th-31st. Dad is drinking again. Everything back there is spiraling. I don't want to call it home anymore. I talked to Mom about my mental health; the breakdowns, the PTSD, and the assault. I told her that I'm either Autistic or have OCD, to which she said she has OCD but also always thought I was "different" from other kids. While she wouldn't have described it as autism back then, thinking on it now she thinks it makes sense. Next time I see the psychiatrist I'll tell him about that. I was supposed to find old report cards, journals, etc to corroborate my childhood but with Dad being the way he was I didn't want to risk anything. I'm worried about him. He needs help but the first step to that is admittance. I don't know if he will ever admit most of the problems. I'm terrified he's going to do something he can't take back. No matter what happens Mom will ultimately be okay. She needs help, too, but she at least can admit that. If she actually is able to go to long-term psychotherapy she will be fine. I'm the worst worried about Sister. She's obviously extremely depressed but Dad doesn't want to see that. While she is a lot more "normal" than I was I can see her depression in the cracks. She doesn't think life if worth living if there is no God or higher order. She talks often of self-destructive behaviors like drinking and drugs but plays them off as a joke. I know they aren't jokes. Honestly I don't know what to do about them other than try to ignore it. Dad said it himself: I got out. I shouldn't risk anything I've built for myself by getting sucked back in to their issues. As much as it hurts, I know he's right.

I'm just trying to focus on the positives: the life I have here with Boyfriend and Cat and Esports. The friends I've found, the future I'm making for myself, and the day-to-day pleasures of living independently. I'll try to write more consistently.

[adhdrexic]

9/12/23

Diary post

well, the past few days I've stayed under 2000 cals which is progress from the 3000+ ive been eating for the past year. im not at the point of weight LOSS yet, but i am maintaining instead of gaining, and thats progress.

its been hard to admit that i have BED as someone whos been anorexic for nearly a decade. nobody talks about how painful it is to feel yourself losing control and not even understanding how to get it back.

my binge eating began because i was so unsatisfied with life that food became the only thing that provided me with dopamine, and it quickly became an addiction. now, its been a year, and im sober off drugs, but not off bingeing. i feel more unhealthy than i ever felt starving and popping stims 5x a day.

throughout the process of developing BED, everyone around me told me constantly how proud they were of my weight gain with no clue about my total lack of self control. they told me how healthy i looked, when in truth, im the most unhealthy ive ever been. and these comments fueled the FUCK out of me to just.. not stop. after all, im healing, right? im getting better?

it took me about 5 months before i was truly aware i had a problem. i had gained 15 pounds and i was happy with that. but then i gained another 5, and another 5, and another 5, and then 10 more. and i realized i couldnt stop.

healing from BED, for me, has been harder than developing anorexia in the first place. until a week ago, when we started talking about habit building and habit breaking in one of my college classes, i had absolutely no idea where to even start. i tried fasting. i binged. i tried exercising. i binged. i tried so much negative self talk it made me consider suicide as my only option.. and i binged... so much. so.. so much.

in all my bingeing, it wasnt until a few days ago that i admitted i had a bingeing problem, and that it had deveoped into BED. but now, here i am, taking the first step. admitting i have a problem.

i learned in my class that a habit consists of three distinct parts, a cue, a routine, and a reward. and through that reward comes KEY WORD craving.

so, my cue was feeling anything, any emotion.

my routine was eating.

my reward was the chemicals that come from eating rich, sweet, salty, calorie dense food.

and then i begun to crave it. and then it became my only way to cope.

so, now i have a mission. create new routines. new habits.

the cue can stay the same, but how i RESPOND to that cue, aka the routine, needs to change. i must do something instead of eating.

something that gives me a reward.

so, ive been writing. but it hasnt worked. so, ive been smoking, but it doesnt work. so, ive been distracting myself in hundreds of different ways, but nothing fucking works. so, what do i do?

my solution, is that i must use my addiction to food to my advantage. i hate using food as a reward, but i must, because it is the only reward that compares to the reward of bingeing.

so, every time i successfully distract myself from eating for at least 30 minutes, i will reward myself with a piece of candy. no matter how i distract myself, i will reward myself.

now, the difficult part is only allowing myself ONE candy. which is where i might have to get my boyfriend involved. The key is that i cant tell him that im rewarding myself for starving, so i must convince him im rewarding myself for something else. so, i guess my distraction will be homework, so i can tell him hes rewarding me for staying focused on my work.

the difficult thing about fixing binge eating is that you cant just get sober from food. its not heroin. its worse. you cant just stop and then have withdrawals and cravings for a while and then eventually get over it. you must learn the art of moderation. and ive never been one for moderation. so this is new to me.

i have one thing by my side, and it is grit and determination. i must, and i mean must stay motivated. i musnt lose sight of this goal. i must prioritize my health.

im not sure if i plan on becoming anorexic again. well, not like i used to be. i simply dont have the means to survive off 500 calories a day anymore. i have college, and a job, and a life i need to be lucid and functional for. but what i can do is slowly lower my goal to 1300 calories a day, roughly maintenance, and exercise regularly. not excessively, but regularly. and slowly, so, so slowly, i should get back to being a shape that i am comfortable being.

one day at a time.

[anon-horsey]

For Yourself, By Yourself.

TW: suicide, self harm, mental health

Since I was 13, all I've wanted was to just go to bed and never wake up. I was 16 when my school got involved, which pretty much forced me to get in therapy and on meds. I was on that shit for more than 2 years. I'm now almost 20.

Am I still depressed? Absolutely. Do I still dread waking up every morning? Yep. Do I still think about what it would be to just not exist? 100%. Do I still think I'm faking it? Yes, yes I do. Sure I'm not actively harming myself or thinking of throwing myself off a balcony anymore, but depression? I don't think that ever goes away. If I'm being honest, I don't know if I want it to. Its been a pretty major part of my life for the past almost 7 years. Probably more, but its not like I can really remember much of anything. I mean, think about it. Why am I doing the course I'm doing at uni? Not because I'm particularly motivated or anything...I just haven't had a solid career aspiration since I was like 8 because at some point I stopped wasting my time worrying and planning for a future I knew I wasn't going to have. Now, I'm almost 20 and I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I'd be lying if I said this was never a part of the plan because truth be told, there never was a plan to being with. I was too depressed for that shit.

But well, the point of this isn't to write about my depression. Been there, done that. I even thought about typing out that whole book of depression poems to post on here. Because like I said, still pretty depressed. But this depression...it isn't the same depressed that I was when I got diagnosed and put on meds. Sometimes, I think my meds didn't get rid of my depression, they just...changed it.

Recently, though, something changed inside me. I'm not quite sure what it was; I'm not even in therapy or on meds anymore. And nothing majorly revolutionary or tragic has happened in my life either. So hell if I know what changed. This summer, I decided that I was just done. I've been done for a long time. Done with the world, done with myself, you get the picture. But this was a different done. Now, I'm just done with people. I think I've realized that the less I put up with other people, the more I can keep my own peace. The less energy I spend in someone else's crap, the more energy I have for shit I want to do. And yes, for once, I actually want to do something. But I digress.

There's this really cheesy quote I saw on Instagram that even 6 months ago, I'd have laughed at. But I think that might have been the “something” that changed inside of me. It goes “I'm working on myself, for myself, by myself”. Cringy, I know. I spent so much time with myself this past year. Not a first at all, but I actually actively spent that time with myself. And you know what I realized? People aren't reliable. Every single person, even people I've considered my best friends, have consistently not shown up and not put in the same amount of effort that I'm putting in to our relationship. Which would be fine if they weren't also the first person to get triggered and spiral when I start putting less effort into said relationship. My best friend, she and I don't regularly video call or anything. Our love language, so to speak, is sending each other shit post reels on instagram. Guess what though, I still absolutely love her and our relationship has done nothing but improve.

On the contrary, my ex-best friend. I hate to say it, but our relationship has not survived the long distance test. She's changed. I've changed. I'm not going to comment on whether either is for the better or worse because I think that's an entirely subjective matter. But believe me when I say I've tried. I've tried to make this work and she just doesn't want to. And a year ago, I would've given everything I have to make it work. Stayed up till 4AM when I had a class at 9 just so I could accommodate her schedule. But I'm just bloody done.

Basically, people don't show up. Not your best friends, hell not even people whose job it is to help you. When I moved into my apartment, I asked 2 people for help with certain things. Both of them said yes. Neither showed up. I did it on my own. So, what have we learnt over the past year? People don't show up and at the end of the day, its you. For yourself. By yourself.

So let this be the year (academic, calendar, whatever) where you stop showing up for people who've stopped showing up for you. Where you prioritize your peace and sanity over that of someone else's. People have never shown up for you. They've shown up for themselves. Its about time we all did the same.

For ourselves. By ourselves.

Leaving you with a little NF quote:

My mind is a home I'm trapped in And its lonely inside this mansion

[awonderlandsystem]

Eva's Thoughts

It started with a book recommendation. A waiting period and a notification that it was available. I quite honestly didn't expect much from it, unrelatable information at the most. In the middle of my post-workout shower, I found myself in tears, cowering like a small child. Was I always this blind to his treatment? I can recall brushing it over and making excuses for it. However, I can also recall a time when I stood tall and proudly out there in the world. Not hiding at the gym at night for fear of meeting another person. I can see the pattern of falling and unraveling but why couldn't I see it then? I believe what hurts the most is why didn't my family try harder to stop me.

According to R my parents practically traded us off to him, happy to be rid of me. Our mother says that isn't true. I'm not quick to believe her though. Everything happened rather quickly and painfully during that period. We lost the only home we'd ever felt safe in, and our parents made plans somewhere with no space for anyone else. We truly had no option but to go with R. I believe that added immensely to my feelings of abandonment. I'd already gone out into the world once on my own and landed flat on my face. I wasn't ready to go off again. I know some will say no one is truly ever ready and I honestly loathe blanket statements like that. Piss off with that. I'm allowed my own struggles and grievances without being compared to the rest of society.

I only wish I hadn't been dormant for so long after that. Perhaps then there could've been more I could've done. I know it's far too late to concern myself with what could've been done, however, it doesn't stop me from kicking myself. I'm a child exposed to violence that has grown to have children exposed to the same. I'd imagine much worse because for all our mother's faults she tried quite hard to provide for us. Which is more than I can say for myself. My mother told me consistently growing up that I would be nothing but a failure, I wanted, still want, so badly to prove her wrong.

Where do I even start? I know how to be a housewife. That's all my mother prepared me for. Ikelos is an artist with no self-confidence in anything she does. Zoe is a writer unable to finish anything she starts. We've been trying to pool our heads together to find some semblance of life skills between us to do something with monetary gain. Ikelos has stated she doesn't have the ability to do retail anymore. Quite honestly I can't blame her these days and the wages involved there. Not to mention the abuse those workers tend to take. I don't believe I have the confidence built back for management again. Although I was offered my job back on the other side of the state. If I had the ability to be heartless once again I would've considered it. Taking advantage of low-income people isn't something I could stomach. I don't want to focus too hard on the negative or things I don't believe we're capable of. I looked at typing jobs, and that's a strong consideration if any of us had strong typing skills. I believe Zoe was the only one who excelled there. It's only very frustrating to see where I'd like us to be but left unable to find the steps to get there.

There's quite a list of things yet to accomplish, mostly dealing with the children. Things I'm told I must handle entirely alone as the stay-at-home mom. It doesn't matter that I've stressed the issues of our mental health to him. I'm expected to be perfect. My mother expected it of me, and now R does. Perfection is unachievable, and I'm trying hard to remember that. I suppose I should return to this book with dryer eyes and finish drying my hair.